Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Leonard Abrams, "¡Presente!"


Photo of Leonard recently, by Angie Sloan


Last night was un poco loco, sitting in a hotel in a beach town in Catalunya in the middle of the night, watching the live stream of the memorial for Leonard Abrams in faraway NYC. Despite the many absences of friends and influenced (those whom Leonard enabled), the event at the Bowery Poetry Club succeeded in evoking the spirit of our dear departed friend. I am sure a few cocktails helped those present. I wrote a text for the memorial, which I’ll shape up later, but for now I’m posting a text by Leonard himself.

In 2022, Howl gallery hosted a panel discussion for my book Art Worker, and Leonard spoke then. I found the text he read odd, but he rolled around to explain it at the end. His sudden death a year later was a shock to the Lower East Side creative community. He was a key figure, a linchpin there, a person who never ceased to engage with the recollections and continuations of that golden period in American art and culture which the the magazine he ran chronicled. Leonard’s passing in the spring of 2023 marked the unraveling of the first-hand knowledge of our bohemia.

“I still can’t believe he’s not here with us. It’s like a bird swooped down and carried him off.” – Bonny Finberg

The Broken-Open People
by Leonard Abrams
What I wanted to talk about today was the importance of breaking things open. One of the reasons there was so much creative activity going on in downtown New York in the 1970s and ‘80s is that there was a convergence of people that had been broken open in some way. And this allowed a lot of stuff to dribble out. It was the kind of thing we all find so interesting because the typical state of people and other living things is to cover up your brokenness so as to present an unblemished, impermeable exterior to the outside world so that the outside world would be less prone to destroying it. And we love looking at broken people because it saves us the hassle of being broken open ourselves at any given moment.
I’m not suggesting that these broken people were just dying to turn up in New York and show everyone their wounds. Perhaps it’s more likely that they thought they were doing a pretty good job of covering them up, but maybe their wounds were easier to see than before. So I’m saying that New York became a magnet for broken open people. Why? Well maybe it was because New York had gotten such a bad reputation that the broken people thought: Well, hey, I can’t make it any worse. Or maybe their brokenness caused them to look for a place in which it was easier to survive because so many people didn’t want to live there. Or maybe their brokenness caused them to see it as some kind of paradise instead of the godawful wreck that John Q. Public thought it was.
In any case, all these cracked, bleeding [inaudible] people came here to play out their lives in relative peace and anonymity. Or to make a project out of their brokenness, to use it as a starting point for some kind of narrative about the condition of all of us. Of course every good artist’s drive depends upon the kinds of wounds that tear the facade away from themselves and those around them.
Now this is not to imply that everybody making some kind of art in the inner city neighborhoods of New York came here with that purpose in mind. Some had nowhere else to go, and some were just born here. But ask yourself, what would make you climb over a barbed wire fence and risk electrocution and getting crushed to death just to write your name on a train? Or pull apart a 100 amp streetlight to power a block party sound system? Now if you calculate that the risk of not painting a train or throwing a party was worse than getting killed, you take it. That’s just common sense. Of course this works better with teenagers.
Pretty soon comes the unbroken people, or rather the ones who have hidden their cracks and breaks better, and have no interest in showing them to anyone else, but prefer building up layers of armor to displaying their soft spots. And these folks do a pretty good job of displacing the other ones. And this is when the party starts to end. By “party” I mean a real explosion of creativity and more than a little bit of bacchanalia, and chances are we won’t see anything like it for a while. Unless of course things fall apart again. I wouldn’t mind seeing that happen, but not everyone is with me on that one.
– recorded at Howl Happening Gallery, May 2022 by Stephen Zacks

LINKS

EV Grieve, April 4, 2023
RIP Leonard Abrams
https://evgrieve.com/2023/04/rip-leonard-abrams.html

Marc H. Miller, “Leonard Abrams (1954 – 2023): Remembering the Publisher of the East Village Eye”, April 6, 2023
https://gallery.98bowery.com/news/leonard-abrams-1954-2023-remembering-the-publisher-of-the-east-village-eye/

East Village Eye, 1979-1987 - Gallery 98
https://gallery.98bowery.com/exhibition/east-village-eye/

Leonard's East Village Eye website news section chronicles his continuous festive organizing around the community his magazine brought together
https://www.east-village-eye.com/news.html

Leonard's film "Quilombo Country" website
https://www.quilombofilm.com/
"We can't leave, because if we leave we could lose our land. So we have to stay in our place. If we leave to work, we lose the land. Because farmers from outside will come in and take the land." Sounds like NYC.

Via expatriate ex-Eye comrade Tony Heiberg -- "Here’s my tribute to my dear friend Leonard Abrams that will be shown tonight - along with many other testimonials - at his memorial in New York at the Bowery Poetry Club. I hadn’t intended to post this here but technical requirements meant it was necessary before I could send it on to Leonard’s sister, Bethany Haye". Tony's tribute did not play in NYC, but you can see it here --


Chris "Daze" Ellis, Club Amazon, MCNY, Martin Wong collection

Wednesday, April 3, 2024

Pichifest Speaks: Lifting the Lid on Spain’s Underground Zine Scene

Page of a Pichifest zine, 2021

An interview with the Pichifest crew, producers of a series of zine fests in unusual venues in Madrid. The Pichis are a non-hierarchical collective working outside of state institutions. In this interview they tell why they don’t ask for cultural subsidies, but follow the “DIY/DIWO ethos”. In a followup question, I asked them to describe the zine scene in Spain. They responded with a blizzard of info on festivals nationwide. I’ve tried to provide the hyperlinks in this text.


Back in November, I set up at the Pichifest fanzine festival at the squatted social center La Enrededera. I blogged about it, not here on my art-specific blog, but at my squatting blog “Occupations & Properties”. I was amazed that this non-political artistic event, crowded with ordinary folks, was taking place at an occupied resistant venue. It seemed like a crossover moment, and a revelation of a new underground.
I asked the Pichifest crew for an interview some time ago. Now the dynamic Madrid-based cultural animateurs have responded to my queries in perfect English.

Thanks so much for agreeing to this interview. I had such a fun time at your November ‘23 event at La Enrededera, even being on the periphery. It was clear that much more fun was had at the after-party, the talleres, etc. I have many questions to ask you guys, but first, can you describe your project in your own terms?

No problem, Alan, it's our pleasure. Glad you had a good time :)
Pichi Fest is an independent and self-managed fanzine festival that has been held in Madrid since 2017 in the Espacio Sociocultural Liberado Autogestionado Eko, with the latest edition in 2023 being held at Centro Social Okupado La Enredadera de Tetuán.


Around 50-odd [self-publishing] projects pass through each edition of Pichi Fest, which we choose giving priority to affordable prices, originality, and zine spirit. Our festival is transfeminist and anti-oppression. We try our best to provide a platform and a safer space overall for non-hegemonic/underrepresented groups and individuals, foster newcomer zinesters, and tackle accessibility issues. Our aim is to run the festival following a DIY/DIWO ethos as well: we are a non-profit, non-hierarchical collective operating with no official cultural funding or external financial support whatsoever. We try to run our events as low cost as possible and make them self-sustainable while not charging exhibitors for tabling and keeping admission totally free.
We also celebrate several other events throughout the year, such as:
“Mini Pichi”, a smaller, one-day festival where we give priority to new and local projects in a more intimate space. Past Mini Pichi editions have been held in Vaciador (now defunct) and Ateneo La Maliciosa.
“Pichi Cafés”, relaxed meetings to share fanzines, snacks, and good chats.
Workshops and talks related to the world of fanzines
We celebrated Pichi Fest 2023 on November 3-4th, and we are planning the next edition in October, as well as a series of zine-making workshops for this spring.

I run two blogs, “Occupations & Properties” mainly about squatting, and “Art Gangs” primarily about artists collectives. What thrilled me about the Pichifest project is that your group sits in the middle, equally at home in art and solidarity with the social movement of squatting. Can you explain why you have been holding your festival events in occupied spaces in Madrid? Other zine fests and artist book fairs have been in institutional venues. Why did you not try to go that way? Are you seeking public money to support your project? If not, why not?

We are not and will not be going the institutional route, as we believe that would compromise our core values, especially being completely independent and not having to pander to the prevailing political agendas or deal with any sort of cultural bureaucracy that we think doesn’t belong in the zine scene. We feel our festival should be as DIY as zines themselves and we’ll stick to that.
One of the ways Pichi Fest may deviate from other fellow festivals is that we try to focus mainly on zines, as opposed to a more broad interpretation of self-publishing and self-produced art. Actually we try to actively stay away from the idea of the zine as an art object but that’s a whole other discussion. Also, as an event, we don’t really have growth plans. Our aim is just to make the festival better but not necessarily bigger. Given that we often operate in squatted spaces, we would hate to act as involuntary gentrification agents while doing all this.


La Enrededera social center in Tetuan

We have to point out that we don’t always celebrate our events in occupied spaces. Past Mini Pichi editions have been held in Vaciador, a self-managed underground venue, and Ateneo La Maliciosa, an independent space with ties to several local social initiatives. And during the pandemic we put together La Ruta del Fanzine, which was held across several local bookstores. We have also hosted Pichi Cafés and talks at La Oveja Negra (a vegan tavern) and Fundación Anselmo Lorenzo, CNT’s archive library [CNT is the Spanish anarchist union]. Plus casual meetings aimed at zine-sharing in different open air parks, the Pichi Picnics.
We think our bottom-up approach ties in nicely with squatted social centres, initiatives that we stand for and are much needed in this city given the problem with the obscene rent prices, the amount of vacant housing and abandoned spaces, alienation and hyper-individualism and the subsequent demand for local cooperation.
We believe they can also act as spaces of resistance against lackluster, hegemonic, greedy and boring mainstream cultural offerings. Squatted spaces allow us a freedom we know we won’t find in other places. This of course presents its own problems, for example a lack of running water or the tables and chairs needed for all the stalls. But we have somehow made it work so far, and the feedback has always been positive despite the drawbacks.

Historically, dating back to some violent conflicts in the Amsterdam movement of the 1970s, squatters with cultural interests (artists, musicians, etc.), and activist squatters have often been in conflict, or at least have not had an easy time together. Politicals are suspicious of artists, and artists are exasperated with the politicals. Did you experience this kind of tension in your dealings with the assemblies at ESLA Eko and CSOA La Enredadera?
If you did not, maybe you can explain this new mood among artists and squatters in Madrid?


Not really, but we experienced what maybe was an echo of that tension when we were first starting. There was this preconceived notion from squatters that a zine and self-publishing event would mean self-employment and profit, and anti-capitalistic squatted spaces are of course strongly against that, at least if the potential gains are not in favor of a social cause. We took our time to explain that in zine culture the returns, if any, are mainly to sustain the production itself, that we were looking for projects and artists that adhere to that principle, and that content-wise we wanted to feature as many political and critical thinking zines as we could. During all these years we have hosted several projects that directly supported different social causes. It has always been a priority for us.


Crack! annual festival of comics-oriented artists’ zines in Rome, at the enormous squatted Forte Prenestino social center, 2023. The Pichis participated recently. This photo from a gallery of photos from one 10 years ago.

In general, our experience so far has been rewarding in every way to say the least. Some of us were not familiar at first with the squatted spaces in our own city and a whole new world opened. We have also brought in zinesters and fans that probably up until that point were just attending institutional events, and some squatters felt encouraged to get more into zines by coming into direct contact with a scene that thrives in Spain and moves through the network of graphic self-publishing fests.
We’d say the mood is shifting. Maybe it's because squatting has been persecuted and demonized in this city that these counter-cultural events can serve as a hint of what these spaces have to offer. But apparently in other squatted spaces they saw and still see zine events as self-employment, and we have heard stories of other festival organizers, past and present, that haven’t had the welcoming experience we had at El EKO or La Enredadera and had their proposals rejected.

Maybe you could spell out a little the "scene that thrives in Spain", and the "network of graphic self-publishing fests"?

There are several zine fests currently going on in Madrid: Autozine (our good pals who are also taking the non-institutional route), Fanzimad, Guindazine, the Feria de Fanzines events at La Maripepa or Periferia Silvestre in Alcalá de Henares.
[LINKS: @autozinefest on I'gm; doing stuff here early next month; fanzimad.com, festival just past; @guindazine on I'gm, late fall fair; "Feria de Fanzines" impulsed by @LibritosJenkins on Twtr/X; @periferiasilvestre on I'gm]
We’d also like to mention our local predecessors: MEA, which lasted for a run of 3 editions and had a remarkably anti-establishment and DIY philosophy that served as a huge inspiration for us, and last but not least the one-shot Breve Encuentro de Fanzines in 2017 put together by Bombas Para Desayunar and Aplasta Tus Gafas de Pasta which was the spark from where Pichi Fest was born.

[LINKS: MEA, meamaravilloso.blogspot.com; Breve Encuentro of 2017 https://web.archive.org/web/20170328120902/http://breveencuentrodefanzines.tk/; http://bombasparadesayunar.com/ (blog of Andrea Galaxina); https://aplastatusgafasdepasta.bandcamp.com/ (musical group, "smash your big pasty glasses", a signature of Spanish yuppies)]



As for the rest of the country, and just to name a few: Tenderete (Valencia) – the longest running graphic self-publishing event in Spain – Gutter Fest (Barcelona), Skisomic (Sevilla), Guillotina Festa (Donostia), Autobán (A Coruña), Vaia Vaia (Lugo), Turbo (Guadalajara), Nosotros Feriantes (Cuenca), Entropia (Málaga), Pliegue (Tenerife), Mallorzines (Mallorca)…

[LINKS: tenderetefestival.com/, January, website includes interviews with participants; @gutterfestival on I'gm, mid-May in BCN; @gutterfestival on I'gm & http://gutterfest.org/; skisomicfest.tumblr.com, Sevilla; @guillotina_festa on I'gm, Donostia, aka San Sebastián in Basque country; autoban.gal & @autobanbd on I'gm in A Coruña; @vaiavaia.lugo on I'gm in Lugo; @turbo_guadalajara in Guadalajara; Nosotros Feriantes amosa.es/actividades/eventos/159_nosotros-feriantes, Cuenca; Entropia in Málaga, @entropia.llll on I'gm; Pliegue in Tenerife, teatenerife.es/actividad/pliegue-6/2787; @mallorzinesfira on I'gm; and "dot" "dot" fucking "dot"!]

Before the pandemic we were reaching a point in which there was a zine festival in every province, or at least some small self-publishing market. Now a similar situation seems to be slowly developing again. Of course some fests just disappeared or are struggling to make a comeback. Such is the nature of these events, as they are mostly run by one individual or very few people, and burn out is common. However, new ones keep emerging. Zinemaking has a very infectious energy and the existence of festivals is a direct consequence.

That’s amazing. Actually, it’s rather overwhelming.

I wonder if you have any thoughts on the difference of the zine scene with say, the artists' book network of the 1970s (e.g., the NYC bookstore Printed Matter, Ulises Carrion’s shop in Amsterdam, etc.) that became institutionalized, grant funded, acaddemically collected, etc., and the countercultural media movement of the '60s in USA and '80s in Spain (e.g., Pepe Rivas Ajoblanco, et al.). Maybe that's too geeky historical.

We are sorry to say we lack the historical knowledge to give a proper answer, and besides, we feel we are very distanced from those examples both as a festival and as individuals. The Pichi Crew has grown over the years to become quite a diverse group, some of us are just too young to have had any direct exposure to such cultural moments. Others are Latin American immigrants in Spain, and we each have a different relationship with the arts, if any. As an organization we constitute a mixed background that is Spanish-speaking but doesn’t necessarily always look to the Spanish scene nor is solely influenced by it. The only common ground is that we met each other in this city and our shared love for zines. Sorry, at some point we had a zine historian that could have given a good reply but they are not in the house right now, hahaha.


Ulises Carrión at Other Books and So, Amsterdam, 1975-79. Courtesy: Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, Madrid

However, we’re not strangers to the phenomenon of institutions co-opting the zine scene – zinesters seen as fodder to provide institutional events “content”, and people using zines merely as portfolio flex to try to get into the art world (something that apparently art schools have been pushing in the last few years). We won’t judge how anyone tries to make a living as an artist, but this is not our approach to zines nor is it something we want in our festival and the scene we are building. We also get a lot of submissions that are someone’s master’s thesis in the form of a zine, and many people that ask us questions as research for class papers, so definitely there seems to be a buzz around zines in art schools.
There’s also the topic you pointed out in your earlier email about a permanent space for zine related activity in Madrid – it is something that has been discussed and proposed several times in our circles – but rent is still the main problem. There are some ongoing zine archive initiatives both in the city and nearby, but it's hard for them to get established to the point of having a permanent space to check or borrow (there are notable exceptions, like Marcablanca or the Local Anarquista Magdalena). And as far as commercial spaces go, Madrid lacks something like Fatbottom Books in Barcelona, which also serves as a meeting point for zinesters and cartoonists.

[LINKS: La fanzinoteca de @lasosteniblealcala on I'gm; http://marcablanca.press/; https://localanarquistamagdalena.org/; https://fatbottombooks.com/]

Sure, zines have acquired a wider presence in the last few years, but zines are still usually found scattered in the least pleasant shelves of comic-book shops, alternative bookstores or anarchist spaces. They are never the main attraction.

About other questions you mention in the email, we think it would be especially interesting to talk about the possibility of a permanent space for zine-ifying in Madrid.
Thanks, and talk to you soon!
Gracias a vosotrxs!


Epilogue:
Clearly the zine scene in Spain is on fire.
From my perspective, there seems to be precious little room for independent non-commercial culture in this thoroughly neo-liberalized (and recently rather obviously corrupt) capitol city. Since the right-wing regained power in Madrid, watching the few bright spots fall away and be closed has been too depressing to blog. Moreover official Madrid culture has gotten really boring. The Pichifest is a bright spark of spirit in the gloom of this city.
Libros Mutantes, the Madrid Art Book Fair, will take place 26-28 April. That's cool; it's very crowded; it’s fun, and there was an open call. But it’s much more attuned to a normative “artists’ book” scene which the Pichis are at pains to disavow (curricula, grants, juries). Libros Mutantes is held in the administrated institutional space La Casa Encendida. (Few remember that the programs in that place were inspired early on by the late-'90s self-organized squatted social center El Laboratorio.)
For the most part, this elderly Anglo is seeing only two ends of the cultural spectrum, the institutional and the self-organized left. I got hip to the Pichis through following the okupa ESLA Eko’s activities. As the blizzardly rundown of Spanish zine fairs above makes clear, I simply did not get the memo.
It’s been some months since zine fever gripped me. I took positons in two festivals, one artistic and the other anarchist. “Tabling” fairs is a bunch of work for these old bones. But I love it. I love setting up my stuff, seeing other exhibitors, sitting and watching the browsing crowds. I love the ticklish engagement (or not) with a person looking closer, which might become a conversation, or just a “humph!”. Working a book table at a fair is something preciously real in our meat-starved screen-driven world.

LINKS

My blog post, “Art + Squat = Pichifest”
Tuesday, November 7, 2023
http://occuprop.blogspot.com/2023/11/art-squat-pichifest.html

Pichifest – @pichifest is everywhere – Tumblr, Instagram, "X", YouTube, podcast, woof!
See – https://linktr.ee/pichifest
(“link” what? Right.)

Espacio Sociocultural Liberado Autogestionado Eko
https://eslaeko.net/

Ateneo La Maliciosa
A meeting place run by Ecologistas en Acción de Madrid, Fundación de los Comunes and Traficantes de Sueños bookstore. They host regular events and classes.
https://ateneomaliciosa.net/

Ulises Carrión, 2016 exhibition at MNCARS, "Dear reader. Don’t read"
https://www.museoreinasofia.es/en/exhibitions/ulises-carrion

Exposición: “Ruptura, contestación y vitalismo (1974-1999)”; about the journal Ajoblanco and its times
https://www.ajoblanco.org/historico/exposicion-ruptura-contestacion-y-vitalismo-1974-1999-2-2

For links to the blizzard of zine fests referenced by the Pichis, see the text above. Most are on Instagram, so I’ve given the @hashtags only.

Saturday, February 10, 2024

“Call It Something Else” in Madrid, Part 2

Ben Patterson

Your blogger continues to tussle with an account of the recent show about Dick Higgins’ Something Else Press. We meet Benjamin Patterson, Claes Oldenburg, Allan Kaprow, John Cage and John Giorno and Carolee Schneeman. And spend some time witih Alison Knowles’ “House of Dust”, a faux free school, and her “Big Book” hooked up to a toilet.

As per my last post on the recent “Call It Something Else” exhibition at Reina Sofia museum, it feels a bit silly to crank on for justice for the losers in the contest for recognition in their contemporary artworld. Of course my frustration is about me and all of us, back then and even now. The Fluxians were the classic la-dee-dah outsiders, the marginalized in the NYC artworld of their day. Their revenge is their influence today, and their status as diffident heroes of all those marginalized by the artworld made by the 1%.
As my internet searches reveal, they’re doing pretty well in recent widely distributed academic exhibitions. Scholars love puzzles.
The Fluxians laid a crooked path for others to follow in the conventional way artists move from one generation to the next. Rather than classic emulation and variation, or Bloomian reaction, the Fluxians proceeded by repetition of creative games and actions. This was true to their roots in music and theater with those genres' scores and scripts, but rather a spanner in the works of visual art. And from that grinding of the gears comes much of value for today’s concept work, performance art and social practice.

Bern Porter

The Fluxus cohort did undertake some large and influential projects, material remnants of which I'll describe eventually. But first I'll trot through the Reina Sofia exhibition and poke into just a few of its nooks and crannies.

Books Under Glass

As a publishing project, the Something Else Press was prolific, and the books it issued were extremely eclectic. A large number of these are nailed to the walls in a first room of the exhibition, in their hard and softcover editions. Among the earliest is The Four Suits (1965), like playing cards, with works by Alison Knowles, Benjamin Patterson, Tomas Schmit and Philip Corner. Knowles was Higgins’ partner, and an early silkscreen virtuoso. Corner is the piano guy. Schmit? No se.
Benjamin Patterson, the heart in the “Four Suits”, trained in the contrabass wind instrument. As an African-American, he could not get a job in a US orchestra and so expatriated. He met John Cage in Germany, and was a key contact in Wiesbaden, helping George Maciunas to produce the first Fluxus Festival there in 1962.


The Nassauischer Kunstverein in Wiesbaden remains a bastion of Flux-thought today. You might can still take Patterson’s questionnaire online for the 50th anniversary of Fluxus: “Has Fluxus changed the world?” (2012). Did Fluxus change the world?
Four Suits was Higgins first anthological book, produced around the same time as Maciunas was issuing “Fluxkits”, anthologies of miniature artworks. Barring copies to peruse, I can’t say anything about these SEP anthologies. I’ve never seen any cited. Maciunas’ group show boxes in museums you also cannot touch. More on this condition of not touching later.

Ladrones de Libros!

Other SEP publications in this gallery include their 1967 Store Days with Claes Oldenburg. I had a copy of this, which included a business card for the Raygun Store in a pocket. (Seller’s description: “Spot of dried glue residue on front endpaper where envelope containing Oldenburg's business card was anchored upon publication, typically now lacking”.) The book is a lovely illustrated record of that inspiring proto-Pop project, and of course my copy was stolen.
SEP also did an LP record with Allan Kaprow, “How to Make a Happening” (1967). (It’s on YouTube; access from Duck Duck Go’s “Duckplayer” to avoid ads.)
Kaprow taught for years at Cal Arts. He invited Higgins and Knowles. Kaprow on this record is extremely didactic: "There are 11 rules of the game. One: forget all the standard art forms." He lists them. "The point is to make something new. Something that doesn't even remotely remind you of culture. You've got to be pretty ruthless about this…."
"Art has always been different from the world's affairs. Now you've got to work hard to keep it all blurry." In this era of Netflix and auction-driven banality, these words ring like the roar of a Tyrannosaurus. [“Wait, I can’t see! Whose mouth am I walking into?”]
After 1968, most of the exhibition’s text panels disappear. Who knows what those books on the wall are about?


Carolee Schneeman's drawing for her body house book

One that’s briefly noted is Bern Porter’s I’ve Left (1971; still $15 at Printed Matter). A scientist working in NYC in 1930s, Porter was infected by the art virus. He worked on the a-bomb, and quit after it was used. He started his own publishing imprint and art gallery in San Francisco.
Peripetetic does not do justice to this pinball of a creative scientist. The book he did with Higgins “proposes wild and revolutionary improvements to and uses for books, poetry, clothing, theater, architecture, art, food, toys, and automobiles”.

Wrong Way In

During one of my visits to the show I walked into what turned out to be the back end. I ran into Bio-Music (1974), a book the SE Press made out of brain wave sound generation experiments. There was a video of John Cage wired up and beeping.
Big vinyl sheets had John Giorno’s repetitive poems stenciled onto them: Higgins published Giorno’s Cancer in My Left Ball (1973). The publication launch card was a copy of the poet’s colossal hospital bill.
Giorno’s “Dial-A-Poem” project is displayed. I remember calling this line a few times back in the day. It’s different hearing it on headphones… but I did, running into John Cage’s mallomar voice intoning “slowly we are getting nowhere” and “beginning to enjoy it”. Not me. In the days of full-out nuclear war anxiety, this Buddhist stuff, a kind of religiously managed tranquility was compelling to many artists. Now I think we gotta do something.
A wall was devoted to drawings from Carolee Schneeman’s Parts of a Body House (1972). Carolee was a a wonderfully sexy artist, and these erotic representations of a fleshly architectural conception made Dick Higgins balk. He only published the text; the Beau Geste Press in UK brought it out again with the illustrations.

A Bean-Like School: Fabbed or What?

Alison Knowles, Higgins partner, produced House of Dust at Cal Arts in 1971. This was an extended project with several collaborators. It featured two constructions (one burned down) of organic pod-like chambers, and scheduled events. The architecture came out of a computer-generated poem Knowles did at Bell Labs. (Hunh? An architecture lab in Argentina tried to explain it; see links below.) In one event a helicopter drops copies of the poem onto the house. This seems of a part with the extraordinary series of E.A.T. experiments, collaborations between artists and engineers overseen by Billy Klüver.


Knowles’ bean-shaped house was a site for events, a kind of free school within a school. “That’s what most people remember, that we would decide as a group what we were going to be doing” (Knowles in Sarbanes interview, link below).
This and other architectural pecadillos were combined in the book Fantastic Architecture, edited by Higgins and Wolf Vostell (1969/1970). (Primary Information reprinted this classic in 2015.)
That book is extraordinary. I remember the moment I found it in a college library. But again, here it is nailed to the wall and unseeable. The show emphasized artwork associated with the publication. A wall text puts the book into the historical context of artists’ resistance to Robert Moses’ LOMEX – cross Manhattan expressway, which would have obliterated the Soho industrial loft district where artists were living.


The wall texts in this show were extensive. I photo’d them, but did not reread them for this text. By the time I got around to attempting this review, the catalogue also had appeared; info overload. I’ll try to describe that also.

Fantastic Architecture in the Real

Fluxus animateur George Maciunas had architectural aspirations. Today the foundation with his name front pages his Fluxhouse cooperatives, illegally set up to house artists in Soho in the 1970s, and the struggles for living space there in those days.
Higgins and Maciunas paced each other in their overlapping spheres. The Something Else Press was born from Higgins’ frustration with Maciunas’ delay in publishing his book.
Both of them had a fascination with the vernacular. Fluxus events organized by these two animateurs tried for a mix of popular elements like circus, carnival, sportive contests, theater itself, often obsolete forms which the artists sought to reinject with abstruse experimental content. (Brecht’s concept of epic theater included similar analogs as a means of putting over political content.) If you don’t undertand what’s going on, at least you understand the frame, i.e., what might be supposed to be going on.

Return of the Monster Book

Alison Knowles made another sculptural installation she called The Big Book. It was a large sculpture represented in this show by a life-sized photo blowup. It looks like a giant wood-framed folder of photos and plastic-based collages in muted colors. The wall text suggests that it could be hooked up to plumbing like a house. The Big Book was exhibited in its day with success. The video in this show is full of shaky closeup details, but is unhelpful in understanding just what this installation artwork consisted of.
An idea of what The Big Book must have been like comes from a later work, The Boat Book, exhibited in Pittsburgh in 2016.


The Boat Book in 2016

Nadine Wasserman writes of it, The Boat Book, an immersive 8-foot-tall sculpture with proportionate, movable wood-framed pages…. [T]his book, similar to earlier versions called ‘Big Book’ and ‘The Book of Bean,’ is intended to be physically and mentally navigated. As an assemblage that includes a bean turner [?], poetry, books, a soundtrack of Knowles reading nautical-related material, and (the potential) for interaction, it has [a] non-hierarchical density of experience”.
The is surely the clearest example I’ve ever seen of the artist’s book as alternative space.


NEXT: Some more on the Reina Sofia show. A visit to the Vostell Museum in Caceres, another redoubt in the Fluxus “Game of Beans”. The catalogue.

///////////////////////////////////////
LINKS

Dick Higgins daughter has written on the movement from the rug rat’s eye view:
Hannah Higgins, Fluxus experience (University of California Press, 2002)

re. Ben Patterson
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ben_Patterson

good precis of his life and career: Andrew Russeth, “Ben Patterson, Cornerstone of Fluxus and Experimental Art, Dies at 82”, June 27, 2016
https://www.artnews.com/art-news/news/ben-patterson-cornerstone-of-fluxus-and-experimental-art-dies-at-82-6578/

An Alternative History of Art, Episode 8 of 10 (13:44; 2018)
Naomi Beckwith, curator at Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art, explores the work of overlooked artist Ben Patterson - the only African American founder of the Fluxus movement.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b09v6vt8

See also "Ben Patterson Tells Fluxus Stories (From 1962 To 2002)", and many recordings of his music at
https://www.ubu.com/sound/patterson.html

Carl Little, “Bern Porter: Never Finish”, April 26, 2015
https://hyperallergic.com/201631/bern-porter-never-finish/

Rachael Morrison, "Bern Porter" in MoMA Library; online exhibition
https://www.moma.org/interactives/exhibitions/2010/lostandfound/

On Alison Knowles’ House of Dust:
Jonathon Keats, “Meet The Female Artist Who Programmed A Computer To Make A House In The 1960s”, July 30, 2022
https://www.forbes.com/sites/jonathonkeats/2022/07/30/meet-the-female-artist-who-programmed-a-computer-to-make-a-house-in-the-1960s/?sh=58edfb1e5209

See also Carlos Trilnick, "The House of Dust" (ESP; many photos)
https://proyectoidis.org/the-house-of-dust/

On Knowles’ experiences at CalArts, see:
Janet Sarbanes, “A School Based on What Artists Wanted to Do: Alison Knowles on CalArts” interview, August 7, 2012
https://eastofborneo.org/articles/a-school-based-on-what-artists-wanted-to-do-alison-knowles-on-calarts/

George Maciunas’ Fluxhouse Cooperatives
http://georgemaciunas.com/

Nadine Wasserman, “A retrospective gives Alison Knowles her due: A Fluxus artist’s journey is mapped in beans and unconventional ‘books’”, 2016
https://www.pghcitypaper.com/arts-entertainment/a-retrospective-gives-alison-knowles-her-due-1958208

Saturday, February 3, 2024

"Call It Something Else”: The Tangled New Wilderness of Concept Art 1 of 3(?)


The recent exhibition "Call It Something Else: Something Else Press, Inc. (1963-1974)" at the Reina Sofia museum in Madrid "focuses on the books, projects, and activities of Dick Higgins’s publishing house Something Else Press, as well as on his theoretical notion of Intermedia, a term the publisher reappropriated to designate the heterogeneous and category-defying forms sustained by the Something Else matrix."
Fluxus? Neo-Dada? Proto Conceptual Art? Whatever it might be called, the Something Else Press projects were essential book things which ushered experimental art into a new terrain vague, an expanded field, a fertile littoral zone that Dick Higgins, in his chatty critical writing, called "intermedia".
Fine. But this was one seriously weird exhibition. Higgins’ publication project was so idiosyncratic, so surpassingly strange that it is, or has been until now, largely unrepresentable. Or, rather, no one has tried. The museum is heroic to make the attempt to do so, but the Reina Sofia is not afraid of obscure hardtack art. It’s the art institutions in the USA who, despite holding most of the cards, are the timid ones.

The Book as Alternative Space

That feels like a Lucy Lippardism. It was a concept to wrap one's head around in 1976 when Printed Matter artists bookstore was founded in NYC.
The book as exhibition: That was Seth Siegelaub's innovation, the gambit in 1968 that made him and his gang famous, producing exhibitions that weren't sited in an art gallery, but rather existed as books. His select group of WMA's became known as the group of conceptual artists. This is canonical 'contemporary' art history in the 20th century. From time to time bleatings might be heard from the margins, but the institutional shows and market of conceptual art revolved around that loud self-description.


These were the art scientists – the very programmatic, very deliberate “look at me doing scientific things”, very well documented trials of simple actions. Measuring things.
The bleatings from the margin, indeed the first ‘books as alternative space of exhibition’, had been done some while before by the Something Else Press. And conceived some years before that. This was in the context, more or less, of the international Fluxus movement. That was named by George Maciunas, proceeding more or less (a frequent term in this terrain of shifting variables, complicated by a team of jokesters who like to move the scenery around) from the Wiesbaden events of 1962.

The Boys Are All Right

This is not to say that Siegelaub's crew were pikers. They were just packaged better, and they had the enchufe. The outsider band of Fluxus was too gangly, too inscrutable. Many of the artists involved were tied to Dada, and to European lifeways which didn't square with American values. Besides, George Maciunas was a known communist and property outlaw. Higgins was this oddball Brit whose family made medieval armor. Check with the board of directors? Fuck that guy and the horse he rode in on.
What is art now? That’s easy: It’s what can sell and be sold, what you can stand in front of in the museum and take a selfie. And your friends will be impressed because they've heard of the celebrated author of the work you are in front of. (Which was most probably not made by her or him, but who cares about the creative supply chain?)
The ideas that motivate art, the generative source code for these creative effusions of human energy – that isn't usually on display in museums or art galleries.
You have to look for that in the trash. Sift among the pile of reject misfit toys.


Sorry, Too Strange

The Something Else/Fluxus project is where that code is to be found, the algorithms of mid-20th century post-modernism. In its day the movement was too casual, too heterodox, too 'dirty' and too confusing. Seth S. and his crew nailed it down to one thing – “this book is the exhibition”. In New York City. Advertised in the art magazines.
There is a lot more in the Fluxian nexus than the minimal hard edge concept art of the mainstreamers, the canonicals, whose work has been regularly exhibited and chewed over by academics for decades. Or, let's say, Fluxianisms are quite different. More 'arty', art-derived, game-oriented, experimental, much more mixed and opaque in their motivations, sources, and manifestations.
The one who brought it together, made it seem rigorous like a scientific procedure-based art should be, was John Cage. He elaborated a theory of chance operations which could make sense of it all. Or not at all, really. But seem to.
Despite that Something Else was NYC based, and quite a number of the artists were USAians, Fluxus has always been a European thing, as evidenced by the more extensive network of institutional formations given over to the movement there. (One of which, the Vostell Museum in Spain, I will come to in this blog.) In the USA there are a lot of Fluxus collections, but they are sequestered institutional repositories, archives, and not usually seen in spaces of exhibition or activation.

So, What About the Show Already?

That’s for next time. But a good start is the text in “links”, a review by a member of a group of East Europeans studying Fluxus.
“No idea is clear to us until a little soup has been spilled on it”.
“A Something Else Manifesto by Dick Higgins”, Great Bear Pamphlet, Something Else Press, NYC, 1966.
“If you can’t do it twice, you haven’t really done it.”
-- DH, 1974

LINKS

"Call It Something Else" exhibition flyer
https://www.museoreinasofia.es/sites/default/files/exposiciones/folletos/something-else-press-eng.pdf

Museum of Modern Art
https://www.moma.org › exhibitions: The Seth Siegelaub Papers as Institutional Critique
“This was the first show Siegelaub organized in which the catalogue, displayed in a private apartment, was the entire exhibition in itself.”
Do we detect a bit of mirror-gazing institutional narcissism here? Siegelaub, BTW, was also a Red. Maybe just quieter about it.

Book as Exhibition
https://book-as-exhibition.org
Seth Siegeulab "Xerox Book"
“A well-known example of a book as exhibition is the catalogue published in 1968 by Seth Siegelaub, which was the sole site for exhibitions of conceptual artists…”

An intelligent review of the show, drawing on the extensive wall texts
Aga Wielocha, “Call It Something Else: Something Else Press, Inc. (1963-1974)” at Museo Reina Sofía, Madrid, October 10, 2023
https://activatingfluxus.com/2023/10/10/call-it-something-else-something-else-press-inc-1963-1974-at-museo-reina-sofia-madrid/


Monday, October 30, 2023

“Friends, Neighbors & Distant Comrades”: Introduction


The big project this year was an exhibition of my collection in Milwaukee. “Friends, Neighbors & Distant Comrades” closed in September. This was the third exhibition of this assemblage of art and ephemera in the city where it the collection is stored since my mother's death in 2020.
The installation, directed by Michael Flanagan in the gallery at MIAD (Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design), was superb. Thanks to the sale of a small work by Martin Wong, I was able to invite several friends to speak and present – Seth Tobocman and Susan Bietila, James Love Cornwell (aka Jim C), Robert Goldman (aka Bobby G), Andrea Callard, Jack Waters and Peter Cramer, and Mysoon Rizk all gave talks at MIAD during the show.


Becky Howland's Flaming Oil Tanker, related to her early '80s installation at ABC No Rio, Brainwash

So far as I know, this has been the only recent show attempting a historical overview of the downtown NYC art scene of the '80s and '90s. The collecting I did coincided with my tenure in the city, 1974-2009. And, while no group of objects can fairly represent the incredible diverse vitality of that period of creative production, this assemblage did a fair job.
The installation was roughly arranged into thematic sections. This first blog post on the project reproduces the wall texts from the show:

“Friends, Neighbors and Distant Comrades” –
The Sections of the Exhibition


This third show of my family’s art collection is organized to be a kind of occluded x-ray of a remarkable period of artistic production in the bohemian districts of New York City at the end of the 20th century. It is installed and listed here roughly chronologically – although many different things happened at the same time – to give the viewer a sense of the unfolding of an urban artworld from its countercultural roots. It includes paintings, drawings, sculpture, and publicity materials, posters and flyers of a kind that were common means of artists communication in the centuries before the internet.
The basic narrative behind all these works, the conditions of production from which they came, is “DIY”, do-it-yourself, aka autonomous self-organization. This was the golden age of the “alternative space.” Most of the work in the show was made and shown in artist-organized spaces, not in galleries and museums.

At Home with Joan and Burt:
Between Milwaukee and Los Angeles


The installation begins with an evocation of my parents, the patrons. (This homage was perforce the theme of the first show, in my mother’s house, in 2020.) We may imagine my parents at home, comfortable in their chairs, the oriental carpet Joan’s father left her spread out in the living room, books close at hand. While their son lived in New York City and bought art for them there, Burton and Joan W. Moore collected art and decorative objects on their own. As a sociologist teaching at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Joan’s specialty was Mexican Americans, specifically, Chicano/a gangs in Los Angeles. Burt was a writer and a Californian. Their collecting therefore focused on Mexican artisanal art, and some work by Chicana/o artists. That work is hanging here.


Campaign poster for Oscar Acosta's 1970 run for sheriff in Los Angeles; anonymous artist. Oscar was a friend of my mother.


This poster, by the Black Cat poster collective, hung in my mother's office.

Arriving in 1970s NYC

I arrived in New York City from California to work at the national magazine Artforum in 1974. He was mostly ignorant of the city’s artworld but found his feet fast. He was naturally drawn to the artists of Fluxus, although the zenith of that movement had passed. Younger artists, his peers, were starting their own projects. Among them was Stefan Eins, an Austrian emigre who ran a “store” in his studio exhibiting his friends. Alan left Artforum and went to work with the more convivial Art-Rite, a community art “zine” in Soho. The artists he met during these years of the ’70s, whose work he acquired for his parents, went on to form the art groups and take part in the movements of the 1980s.


Poster for Lil Picard's event at 3 Mercer Street store, 1975

Collage by Jean Dupuy; records his address in 1974

Colab and the Times Square Show 1980s

Colab was the first group I became involved with. Formed in 1978 by artists from the Whitney Studio Program, the same class as the editors of Art-Rite, Colab was an assembly of some 40 people, with a diverse and constantly changing membership. The group generated many projects of publication, cable TV production, performance and art exhibition. Most of their work in the late ’70s revolved around independent film and video.
The artists of the Colab group had a hit with the “Times Square Show,” which received close attention from the NYC artworld. Burt and Joan began to collect NYC art at that time. The couple visited the show and bought a few pieces, which are on display here.
Not long after, disaffected Colab member Diego Cortez curated “New York/New Wave” at P.S. 1 in 1981. This show launched the careers of Jean-Michel Basquiat and Keith Haring, and set off the art market frenzy of the decade. Both Basquiat and Haring had been minor players in the Times Square Show.
In 1983, Colab produced a show in a vacant Washington, D.C., hotel called the “Ritz Project”. Much of the artwork had a strong political content. It was too much for Ronald Reagan’s city, and the exhibition was soon shut down. The sudden chaotic conclusion of this project left many works behind in storage – several of which are shown here.

ABC No Rio and Fashion Moda

The epochal 1980 Times Square Show exhibition in the seedy, vibrant central amusement (and prostitution) district of Manhattan was preceded by two independent art spaces affiliated with the Colab group – Fashion Moda, which opened in the South Bronx in 1978, and ABC No Rio, begun on the Lower East Side in 1980. Stefan Eins and Joe Lewis ran Fashion Moda. Alan was a co-director of ABC, along with Becky Howland and Bobby G (Robert Goldman).


ABC No Rio was used by Colab continuously for meetings and shows through 1989, when the group disbanded. Fashion Moda closed in 1993. ABC No Rio continues active to this day “in exile” as a new building is pending construction.

East Village Art Movement

Colab’s success with a rough, socially conscious style of work was a kind of starting gun for a feverish period of art and radical culture in New York City.
Artists poured into the city from across the country and around the world to develop the scene in the city. They were attracted by cheap rents and a burgeoning number of art galleries and nightclubs in the working-class district of the Lower East Side, the city’s traditional bohemia. The East Village was the place to be in the 1980s.

Requiems

The AIDS pandemic began to hit in NYC in the late ’70s, and slowly built throughout the ’80s. The U.S. government under Ronald Reagan was unconcerned for several years as gay men and IV drug users began to die in large numbers. Among them were many artists, luminaries of the art scene like Keith Haring, David Wojnarowicz and Martin Wong. Large numbers of other artists, young and old, popular and little-known, also died. Loisaida’s street people, addicts and the homeless, also began to disappear. As the ’80s rolled on, rents on the Lower East Side began to rise dramatically; gentrification had begun. The writing was on the wall. The scene would soon be over.


Preparing works in storage
Rivington School and the Subterraneans

In a very public area of the Lower East Side, a wild art performance scene began to bubble around a former Latino drug den and social club called No Se No. It was kicked off by “99 Nights” of daily events. The Rivington School of metal sculptors, fueled by alcohol and testosterone, soon colonized a nearby vacant lot with a jungle of welded steel and carved stone. This anarchistic scene lasted from 1983 to 1987, and several of the artists became involved in the Lower East Side squatters movement.


Linus Coraggio frames a photo of the Rivington School sculpture garden
Graffiti Art Movement

Mostly it was white artists who arrived in NYC from all over in the ’70s and ’80s to pursue their careers. But an indigenous art movement was already there and gaining steam – graffiti “writing” on subway trains and hip-hop culture in the South Bronx. These artists, mostly people of color, began to show their work in East Village art galleries in the ’80s, boosted by the early graffiti writing of art stars like Haring and Basquiat. The South Bronx art space Fashion Moda played a key role in the process of integrating the graffiti writers into the NYC artworld and beyond to Europe.


Issues of the aerosol art zine IGT designed by Phase II
Return to Order

This section of the show has a multiple sense: It includes artists active in the East Village and some in Colab whose work was more formal in nature and did not directly engage volatile social themes. The theme also alludes to the first invasion of Iraq in 1990, and a new cycle of wars with the reassertion of U.S. hegemony in the Middle East, which is most definitely a political question.
What is more, the “order” of culture in lower Manhattan was basically festive; nightclubs were very important. Throughout the ’90s, artist-made film and video became more visible through screenings in clubs, self-organized festivals and new distribution networks like Colab’s MWF Video Club. New social concerns began to emerge through inventive cultural activism. And the queer community, badly impacted by AIDS, became more assertive.

To the Streets for Global Justice

The final section of this exhibition takes its title from the many artists who became involved in large demonstrations against the series of summit meetings of world leaders of government and business in capitals around the western world in the late ‘90s and early ‘00s. The demonstrators demanded Global Justice within the emerging neoliberal economic order. These demonstrations were colorful and telegenic parades as artists provided pageantry and made publicity posters to mobilize in a period when social media was only beginning to emerge. The Just Seeds co-op formed to distribute political artists’ poster works. Activist artists also moved into cultural institutions in a bid to amplify their cause.


Rocky Dobey, “Take the Capitol”, poster for G-8 protest in Ottawa, 2002

The "Smalls" in Vitrines

The small objects in the show are contained in large vitrines, and listed separately.
Entering into the art market was very important for most young NYC artists in the 1970s and '80s. Self-organization, independent exhibitions in friends' lofts – all of these were strategies that for many substituted for acceptance into galleries.
Exhibitions in state-funded alternative spaces were non-commercial. The shows of the Colab group also had no commercial aspect; nothing was for sale. The Real Estate Show was a political act, an art squat. Both ABC No Rio and Fashion Moda received state funds, and neither sold art.
At the 1980 Times Square Show, Tom Otterness and Cara Perlman organized a "gift shop" where artists could sell their low-cost hand-crafted multiple objects. Unlike gallery editioned multiples of the 1960s and '70s, these were usually a series of more or less identical artworks quite often unnumbered and unsigned. They appealed to buyers by their novelty and interest, since the artists were young and unknown.

Later that same year, Kiki Smith arranged for the "A More Store" to sell small artworks by Colab members and their friends in the art district of Soho during the holiday season, and Colab store projects continued yearly until the end of the group (1989). Most of the works in vitrines in this exhibition are from those Colab sales projects.
In time, most non-commercial art spaces have come to sell artists’ editions to support their programs. The artists book store Printed Matter, rooted in sales, was among the first. The strategy was also popular among individual artists who created branded merchandise – Keith Haring opened his own store called the Pop Shop (1986-1990); KAWS dolls are everywhere. Artists continue to organize collective store projects, for example the Buddy store in Chicago (@hi-buddy.org).

NEXT: Accounts of the visiting artists’ presentations – Seth Tobocman and Susan Bietila, Robert Goldman (Bobby G), Andrea Callard, Jack Waters and Peter Cramer, and Mysoon Rizk

References, Online:

Alan W. Moore's website:
https://alanwmoore.net/

The Hunter College Art Galleries “Times Square Show Revisited” exhibition, 2012
Website includes extensive artist interviews
http://www.timessquareshowrevisited.com/accounts.html

online book ABC No Rio Dinero (1985 print; e-version 2010)
http://98bowery.com/return-to-the-bowery/abcnorio-colab.php

MWF Video Club transferred content online
https://archive.org/details/mwf_video_club

References, Print:

Max Schumann (ed.) A Book about Colab (and Related Activities), Printed Matter, Inc, 2016

XFR STN exhibition brochure PDF (New Museum, 2013)
http://www.newmuseum.org/exhibitions/view/xfr-stn

Lauren Rosati and Mary Anne Staniszewski, eds., Alternative Histories: New York Art Spaces, 1960-2010 (MIT Press, 2012)

Alan W. Moore, Art Gangs: Protest and Counterculture in New York City (Autonomedia, 2011); Art Worker: Doing Time in the New York Artworld (JoAAP, 2022)

Carlo McCormick, The Downtown Book: The New York Art Scene, 1974–1984 (Princeton University Press, 2006)

Julie Ault, Alternative Art, New York, 1965-1985 (University of Minnesota Press, 2002)

Selected Filmography

Downtown 81 (1981/2000; 1:11)
Edo Bertoglio [Glenn O'Brien], director
Basquiat himself stars in this film, conceived by his friend O’Brien. Made in ‘81, but released later, it is very artisanal.
Mubi.com and Archive.org

Wild Style (1983; 1:21)
Hailed as the first hip-hop movie, Wild Style captures New York's early hip-hop culture. Stars graffiti writers Lee Quiñones and Lady Pink (Sandra Fabara), along with Patti Astor. Includes Busy Bee Starski, Fab Five Freddy, The Cold Crush Brothers, and Grandmaster Flash. Directed by Charlie Ahearn.
Amazon Prime video

156 Rivington (2003; 56 min.)
This documentary traces the history of ABC No Rio from the Real Estate Show, and profiles later activities in the space. Directed by Andrea Meller.
Archive.org

Blank City (2010; 1:34)
Documentary about the “do-it-yourself" independent filmmaking of the punk era in late '70s and ‘80s downtown NYC. Beth & Scott B, Nick Zedd, and others are interviewed. Directed by Celine Danhier. Vimeo.com

Shadowman (2017; 1:22)
Interviews and footage of street artist Richard Hambleton, known for his evocative paintings in dark corners. Chronicles his heavy drug addiction, and fall from prominence. Directed by Oren Jacoby Amazon Prime video
Filmin.es

Boom for Real (2017; 1:19)
Detailed documentary on the rise of Jean-Michel Basquiat, including interviews with those who knew him. Directed by Sara Driver.
Amazon Prime video

Make Me Famous (2022; 1:33)
A portrait of a forgotten striver in the East Village art scene of the 1980s, as recalled by those who knew him. This “in search of” documentary takes a very different view of the epoch. Directed by Brian Vincent.
In theatrical release; screened during this exhibition.

Other video and film….
The MWF Video Club collection on Archive.org, and Colab Video on YouTube contain extensive video content of varying lengths produced and/or distributed by Colab during from 1986-2000. Archival uploads are ongoing to the Archive.org site.


Pedro Linares (family), Tourist with camera, n.d. [acquired 1981]

Saturday, July 22, 2023

"Machinations" at Reina Sofia: Part Two

Dengbêjs storytellers in "Love in the Face of Genocide" by Rojava Film Commune

This is the second part of my review of “Machinations” at the Reina Sofia museum in Madrid this summer. I renew my attempts to encompass this huge summer show which is more like a biennale than a themed exhibition. In this segment we move from “War Machines” through “Schizo culture” to “Cinema Machines of Care”. The old hospital-turned-museum fulfills its new task of lancing traumas and salving subjectivities.

Among the “War Machines”

Resuming my roam through “Machinations” , the Indonesian collective Taring Padi has a setup in the first room, a large-scale banner print behind an assembly of brightly painted cardboard cutout figures of evil corruptos. As part of the show, the Reina’s Museo Situado project organized a workshop with Taring Padi in the community garden "Esta es una plaza". Participants made similar wayang kardus, puppets in Indonesian style to express issues of the neighborhood.

Taring Padi is the best known of the art collectives that emerged after the end of the Suharto dictatorship in 1998. A mural they made in 2002 was part of their retrospective at last year's Documenta, curated by another Indonesian collective, ruangrupa. The enormous work, like Cian Dayrit’s work, was an attempt to come to terms in cartoonish vernacular with the continuities of colonialism and the inheritor elites who continued the exploitation, in a kind of pulp fiction muralismo.
The work was the trigger for a nasty scandal. An anti-Semitic caricature, pointing to the material support the Israeli government provided to the Suharto dictatorship, led to a prolonged media attack on the public-funded exhibition as rightwing media seized upon the issue.


at right: Mish Mish Effendi
This is a specifically German version of rightwing culture wars, a cynical exploitation of minority sensibilities. These representations of post-colonial Indonesia’s hard history, which Taring Padi included in their Documenta retrospective, were not made for European audiences. Jews are a minuscule part of the Indonesian population, while the actions of Israel in support of dictatorships, mobilized through Mossad, have earned that state great international enmity. Subsequent to the scandal, both art collectives have been working to repair their relationship with German Jewish groups.

Not So Comical

Jews are the original ancient European nomads. The installation of Eran Schaerf, an Israeli architect, urbanist, and photographer, Nomadesque (2023) is a full set of displays built around the Frenkel brothers, cartoonists in Egypt in the 1930s. The Frenkels created the Mish Mish Effendi character in animated cartoons, which Schaerf reads as an avatar of Jewish exile. Through a wraparound set, a tiny movie theater, and artifacts, Mish Mish cartoons assert a cheeful cosmopolitan identity through borrowing attributes from other pop culture icons like Mickey Mouse. Perhaps this lightheartedness was only possible in the prewar era before postcolonial boundaries in the ex-Middle East had hardened.


Nomadology: Lifeways and Military Motions

In Exquisite Corpse, the Lebanese artist Rayyane Tabet digs deep into an antique intellectual job site. His great grandfather was a translator for a German ethnographer who produced a four volume work (displayed) on the Bedouins of the Transjordan region. That zone is now a few different countries. The point of this, the key artifact in Tabat's installation, is that the means of roaming used by these nomadic people – a tent form called bisht – was adapted by imperial militaries. Most of the room is hung with the looming drab canvas of different military tents; related hardware, pegs etc., are hung along the walls. These ethnographers then were in a way spies, and agents of colonial governance. Knowledge is appropriation.
The Rojava Film Commune, working in active war zones, is among the artists whose work concerns ongoing processes of ethnic dislocation. In the video Love in the Face of Genocide (Shero Hinde, dir., 2020) traditional Kurdish singers recite their new and old verses of loss.

Slipping along we leave the realm of analysis and enter a terrain of affect unleashed where the museum becomes an annex of the asylum.
These are the artworks posited as examples of “Schizo Machines”. There is politics behind this too, as was elaborated early on in Deleuze and Guattari’s book Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia (1972 FR/1983 ENG). The idea that conditions confront us with impossible choices which lead to a nomral kind of madness is adumbrated in the work of Gregory Bateson on the double bind, and R.D. Laing’s idea of knots – the bundles of contradictions that both motivate and paralyze moderns.


Above right: Huanchaco blesses you

Cuidado: Here Be Madness

Tai Shani's Neon Hieroglyph video takes as its subject a direct organic cause of derangement: ergot, the hallucinogenic fungus growing on rye which caused medieval epidemics of madness. Based in microphotography, the shifting swirling colors of Shani’s “feminist psychedelia” spin a bleary erotic narrative of alienism, endlessly replicating rhizomatically (another of Deleuze and Guattari's favorite metaphors).
A vitrine and wall works concern the personal territory elaborated by the Zush/Evru (aka Albert Porta) who imagined a personal “Evrugo Mental State”, a country which manufactures ironic weaponry that kills with pleasure and hilarity. Artifacts from that construct – a flag, currency, passport, map – occupy a vitrine.

A wall is given over to Huanchaco (Fernando Gutiérrez), a kind of obsessive Peruvian music-priest, whose universalist Manual para Hablar con Dios (2018) is elaborated in meticulous blue ink drawings of the machines he proposes. In a video he does costumed performances with lots of smoke and mirrors.

Queer Plastic and Fish

Probably the oddest of the odd videos here are two rooms given to the queer Indian artist Tejal Shah. Between the Waves (2012) is a kind of choreographed bacchanal of unconventional semi-nude young bodies, floundering about in ways that seem profoundly uncomfortable. The dancers(?) are costumed with bindings and protruberances and move through an underwater-scape of colored plastic sea vegetables. A confused fish wanders into the frame. Braided e-waste floats over a bleached coral reef.
In another scene set on a high balcony terrace with a scenic urban overlook, the queer bacchantes clamber over and penetrate one another. Pomegranates are burst, and the seeds massaged into orifices. Ouch. A couple of light sculptures in the room seem like gilding the lily beside this exceptionally weird set of filmic setups.
Another room shows the video of Tejal Shah’s stagings of performances in landscapes of industrial waste, mountains of it, overlooking deep vistas of urban development. These include hill-sized walls of the dumb brown shredded unrecyclables Western countries export to Asia. A black-and-white animation on a screen alongside abstracts the theme, rapidly proposing hieroglyphics. You give us garbage we give you back spectacle.

Healing in the Movie Theater

From here the rooms branch like labyrinths, as we enter the segment “Cinema Machines of Care”. Guattari worked with La Borde, Jean Oury’s psychiatric clinic. Their innovative protocols – in brief, the inmates ran the asylum together with the doctors – shared a lot with the clinic regimens of Francesc Tosquelles Llauradó, whose work was the subject of an earlier exhibition at the Reina Sofia packed with classic “outsider art” called "Like a Sewing Machine in a Wheat Field". (It's a Surrealist poetic conjunction; Tosquelles invited Surealist artists and poets to his asylum.)

Oury and Guattari

That exhibition revealed the broad scale project of the Catalan psychiatrist, who came from frontline mental clinics in the Spanish Civil War. His goal was to reform the asylum and reintegrate mental patients as a cooperative cultural society and creative production unit.

Another Reina Sofia favorite, Dora Garcia has some rooms here, the talking heads video “Deviant Majority from Basaglia to Brazil” (2010; 34 min.), and a darkened tunnel with an impassive smiling young face and a couple of gesticulating forearms. A blackboard proposes the excercises I was far too exhausted to consider. Later I saw a boy waving his hands, trying to interact with the smiling face video. Sorry, no dice.

My Spinning Head!

At this point my partner arrives. She has watched parts of the video featuring Guattari and Tosquelles, among others. She describes an installation I have just seen in terms completely unlike what I saw.

A show as dense and lengthy as this is a tesseract. The videos all together would take many hours to watch, and most visitors will only enter each viewing room rather briefly. What any one person gleans from it is going to be completely different from what any other person sees.

Among the Many Dead

It took me a few times to get it, but Gee Vaucher’s Lost (2018) is a synthetic anti-war message. It's delivered through the scale of the images – four enormous portraits of abused children, four paintings, four heads. Then a fat 6” thick book hand written, page upon page of apparent markings, scratchings in ordered rows. The first pages are stick figures; the figures diminish in size on each successive page, becoming in the end just innumerable tiny marks in blocks.

Gee Vaucher is renowned as the illustrator for the anarcho-punk band Crass, and her theme throughout her life has been anti-war. This is that – a kind of metaphorical accounting of the uncountable, the incomprehensible damage done to the legions of victims, especially children, by the endless ongoing calamities of warring adults. The work plays out in this abrupt change of scale – “4 things at a time” – then a diminuendo, on and on and on, which we can only “read” about.

Eternal Return… 65+ Get in Free

The density of information presented, the multiple unfamiliar contexts made it near impossible for me to make it through the entire show from beginning to end. I saw that the only way to cover it, to get to the later pieces, was to re-enter the exhibition from the rear. As it turned out, there are two other separate museum rooms with yet more works.

Recollecting Radio Alice

The Sala del Protocolo, a chamber in the museum with a dramatic spiral staircase and extensive cabinetry holds Loreto Martinez Troncoso’s installationPoemarios garabato (scrawl poems; 2023). Troncoso covers the walls with scratchy texts and markings. An eclectic selection of sounds issues from a floor-crawling array of speakers. The artist works with collaborators, and gathers multiple voices and readings, including Franco "Bifo" Berardi, a principal in the free Radio Alice project in Bologna in 1977.

Radio Alice was an important pirate radio station during the Autonomia organizing in Bologna. It was a continuous source of in-the-moment advice to street fighters (phone booth calls to the station), in between playing music and cracking jokes. Félix and Bifo were close. Guattari wrote a script for a film about Radio Alice, set amidst the 1977 Autonomist uprisings. Berardi wrote a biography of his long-time friend and collaborator.

Big Head Economists

So, coming in at the back door of the main exhibition, I encounter the videos of Juan Pérez Agirregoikoa, grouped under the title Undesireable Aliens (2021). These works feature big-head puppets – cabezudos, a popular festival tradition in Spain – delivering and listening to economic discourses. Among them is Milton Friedman, the influential anti-Keynesian monetarist economist who advised Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher.
The misleading simplifications and condescension of Friedman’s discourse, especially his attempts at humor, come across sharply when he is caricatured in this way.

Misery Is Profitable

Around the corner, Femke Herregraven’s work Spectres of Calculated Prophecies (2023) visibilizes the catastrophe bond market. This is an especially bleak infographic, a lightbox with a soft colorfield look to it. If you have the feeling that major disasters have been accelerating in the last several years you are correct. Moreover, speculating on them constitutes a rich market for investors.

I reference Herregraven’s explanation of her work in the links below. Looking through that chart, with its chronology of hundreds, thousands, and sometimes millions of deaths did not incline me to understand how capital markets make money off of this.
Another of her works, drawings called Split Ends, show clumps and loops of hair with micrographic captions of a fatalistic nature alongside them.
A regular feature of Reina Sofia exhibitions are the products of critical cartography groups, nearly all of them downloadable with QR codes. In an earlier room, Hackitectura.net analyzes migration in a graphic data visualization, and the Iconoclasistas present the map of autonomous sites in the museum's neighborhood of Lavapies as it was annotated by visitors in a group exhibition three years ago.

Painting with Props in a Theater

Some relief from the panoply of works with thick content and context is Heiner Goebbels’ The Last Painting (20 min.; 2023). A record of a 2019 NYC performance in the vast Park Avenue Armory space, a team of ‘actors’ move large cloths around. Really large. It is a theater of objects, an abstract exercise, relaxing, mesmerizing even, in its flow with honking foghorn saxophone accompaniment. My partner sees one man working harder than the others….

Ismaïl Bahri’s Foyer (2016) is another abstract exercise. So easy to pass by, it consists of an apparently blank screen with subtitles in Spanish of Arabic speech. A group of men joking. Splashing is heard. Bahri is filming a sheet of paper. Conversations gather around him. “What are you doing?” Discussions about skin color.
The video resulted from Bahri’s purely abstract experiments filming a sheet of white paper placed up againist the camera lens. He did this in the street in Tunis, and soon curious passersby started to talk about the artist’s work and about other things, which changed Bahri’s experiment. “I stopped watching in order to start listening.” What began as "an abstract operation" about "blindness" ended up to be a film about Tunis.

To Murder Poets

Another of those separate rooms is made into a theater for the work of the Italian filmmaking couple Yervant Gianikian and Angela Ricci Lucchi, presented under the title Frente a Guernica (100 min.; 2023). They work with found footage, in this case Spanish – there is footage of the Civil War, advancing troops, wounded carried from the field, Republican refugees… sad images of a sad time.
One of their segments covers the Mandelstam affair, part of which played out in Spain, a consequence of the country’s alliance with Stalin’s Russia. During a conference in Republican Barcelona, Russian writers debated the matter of the poet Osip Mandelstam’s insults to Stalin. The poet died some years later in a labor camp: "Only in Russia is poetry respected, it gets people killed,” he wrote. “Is there anywhere else where poetry is so common a motive for murder?"
Subsequently, many countries may be added to the list.

The Hospital Become a Museum

There are significant exhibitions within the “Cinema of Care” segment of “Machinations” that deal with African subjects. One of the largest is Jean-Pierre Bekolo’s room. The work of the Cameroonian theorist of a “healing cinema” is presented in a classroom-like setup, quite cold in the summer, with large monitors on two sides showing black faces watching the screen.


I came back with a jacket.
Several films were shown. In one, contemporary speakers discuss the discourse of colonialism, how the national anthem includes deprecatory words about the country’s people. Historical footage shows Cameroonian dignitaries negotiating the decolonization. A visit to the country by De Gaulle. What would be the continued relation between the two countries? The African diplomats are stepping lightly, speaking circumspectly durinig their visit to Paris.
In one scene, Leopold Senghor speaks of the extreme difficulties of uniting African countries which speak French, English and Arabic. A contemporary head intervenes – “The French project of De Gaulle was a petroleum project!”
Bekolo’s cinema heals by reflection and reference. It is about “how the story should be told, how the story should have been told.”

Human Zoos and Filmic Paradise

One Afro-German artist filmed in her studio by Bekolo’s crew speaks about her work with the history of Cameroonians who were taken to Germany. (I missed the name; maybe it’s Amma Asante?) She begins discussing girl children kidnapped at the turn of the last century by German missionaries, trained in Germany, then “exported” back to Cameroon. There they endured extreme isolation; were told that they were white people. Many died of depression.
She spoke of Afro-Germans who were prisoners in a film set paradise, a twisting tale that begins with Carl Hagenbeck of Hamburg, a purveyor of wild animals, and “an ethnography showman and a pioneer in displaying humans next to animals in human zoos” (WikiPedia). In Berlin, Templehof, site of the UFA film studios, housed Cameroonian actors who played in serial films. Elaborate sets were built for these. Later Templehof became a wartime training ground for Nazi concentration camp admininstrators. More recently it was the site of a camp for migrants.
An adjacent gallery housed an extensive presentation of documents from the Cultural Association of African Workers in France. The centerpiece of this was a filmed play, Traana, Temporary Migrant (26 min.; 2017), by Raphaël Grisey and Kàddu Yaraax.

The 1977 play treats the exodus of rural people to the city, and to Europe. The background of this work, explicated in the display, goes back to the failed '60s and '70s liberation movements in Senegal and Mali. The peopie with whom the Paris-based activists reconnected, seeking to help them form cooperatives, soon became experts in migration.These are the fishermen who navigate pirogues full of migrants to Spain.
The weight of multiple oppressions is twisted in knots bound up with fictional and religious fantasies. The moment we think we understand is the moment opportunist politicians can fool us. Reconciling to the trauma and recognizing the responsibility of an oppressor nation is a lifelong work.
This museum used to be a hospital. Now they are trying to mend the cares and worries of the world in another way.

LINKS

LINKS

Taring Padi
https://www.taringpadi.com/

on Taring Padi at Documenta – Dorian Batycka, “‘All the Red Lines Have Been Crossed’: Just Days After Opening, Documenta Conceals an Artwork Depicting Antisemitic Stereotypes”, June 21, 2022
succinct resume of the Taring Padi crisis last year; the after-effects continue to reverberate

Jews in Indonesia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_Jews_in_Indonesia

"Rojava Film Commune lanza un nuevo documental sobre la tradición de dengbej en Sinjar" includes clips of the video
https://anfespanol.com/cultura/rojava-film-commune-lanza-un-nuevo-documental-sobre-la-tradicion-de-dengbej-en-sinjar-20762

In Conversation: Tai Shani on "Untitled Hieroglyphs"... speaking on centuries of "tripping" in Italy, ergot outbreaks and witchcraft, and more.
https://www.serpentinegalleries.org/art-and-ideas/in-conversation-tai-shani-untitled-hieroglyphs/

A 2014 MACBA project on free radio begins with a 1/2 hour podcast on the Radio Alice project, "RADIOACTIVITY #1 Radio Alice" is at:
https://rwm.macba.cat/en/specials/radioactivity-1-radio-alice

See Félix Guattari, Isabelle Mangou, Un amour d'UIQ: Scénario pour un film qui manque (Editions Amsterdam/Multitudes, 2012)
and
Félix Guattari (trans. Graeme Thomson and Silvia Maglioni), A Love of UIQ (dist. By U. of MN Press for Univocal Publishing, 2016)

Franco (Bifo) Berardi, Felix Guattari. Thought, Friendship, and Visionary Cartography (Macmillan, 2008)

Femke Herregraven text describing the basis of catastrophe bonds, and profiting from climate disasters
http://femkeherregraven.net/volatilitystorms/

Ismaïl Bahri Introduces His Film "Foyer"
https://mubi.com/es/notebook/posts/ismail-bahri-introduces-his-film-foyer

Carl Hagenbeck [human zookeeper in Hamburg]
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Hagenbeck

Damian Zane, “Being black in Nazi Germany”, BBC News, 22 May 2019, on the work of Amma Asante
https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-48273570

"Traana" -- Raphaël Grisey, Kàddu Yaraax, Bouba Touré
https://raphaelgrisey.net/works/traana-temporary-migrant/